MTL - Princess Medical Doctor - ~ 865 blocked, backhand for the cloud

[You have become the first ever Player of Life in human history.]

-What did I just see? He can see the flu virus?

-The cell he made grew in the culture medium. This really looks like an embryonic stem cell… Is this true?

Leukemia, dementia, schizophrenia, lung cancer, and pancreatic cancer…

‘Can I overcome it all?’

[Of course.]

A confident message popped up.

Rosaline, the living cell that had become a part of his body.

With this cell, any research he did was nothing but successful!

His story of overcoming all diseases and illnesses begins here.

Disclaimer: Please do not take any medical advice from this novel or any other web novels.

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Luo Feng, accompanied by the Sector Beast Morosa, had passed through reincarnation and arrived at the Land of Origin....

The poor Commandery Princess is down and out. Her father died when she was young, and her mother passed away not long ago. Her grandfather, the only one she can rely on, is now at death’s door from his illness. Faced with the merciless uncle, the greedy aunts, as well as cousins competing to present the model of the worst relatives, the Commandery Princess could do nothing but feel depressed in heart.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”